



t 



* 



Class_£ _ 

Book_ ■ 5* 

iz tiA- 
































♦ 































































4 

t 









































N 































% 












♦ 


t 
























* 



















































PERSONAL NARRATIVES 


OF KVENTS IN THE 


War of the Rebellion, 


BEING PAPERS READ BEFORE THE 


RHODE ISLAND SOLDIERS AND SAILORS 
HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 


Third Series — No. 11. 


providence: 

PUBLISHED BY THE SOCIETY. 

1885. 





PROVIDENCE PRESS COMPANY, PRINTERS. 


In Eschar ; 

Pi/. 0 . urit . 'riod. 




< r * 






RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


IN THE 


TWELFTH REGIMENT, 


E. I. YOLUNTEEES. 


BY 

OSCAE LATHAM, 

l\ 

[Late First Lieutenant Co. B, Twelfth Rhode Island Volunteers.] 





PROVIDENCE: 

PUBLISHED BY THE SOCIETY. 
1885. 




E 522 

s 

I2 7Cl 


/ 


[Edition limited to two hundred and fifty copies.] 


RECOLLECTION'S 


OF 

SERVICE IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT, 

E. I. VOLUNTEERS. 

[Read before tjie Society, November 18,1884.] 


This regiment was recruited in the summer of 
1862 under the call of the President for volunteers 
for nine months. The disasters of the Peninsula, 
the defeat and scattering of Pope’s army in Virginia, 
and the Union victory at Antietam, had followed each 
other in rapid succession, and it was evident that the 
veterans of the Army of the Potomac would all be 
required in the great struggle with Lee, about to 
take place somewhere in Northern Virginia. 

It was, therefore, commonly supposed that the 
nine months’ troops would be stationed in the de¬ 
fences about AVashington, while the older troops, 



6 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


with a few rapid and masterly movements, proceeded 
to capture Lee and his army, which had thus far, 
with singular perversity, refused to surrender, either 
in the Chickahominy swamps, in the valleys of the 
Blue Ridge, or among the hills of Maryland. 

Instead, however, of luxuriating in comfortable 
quarters in sight of the dome of the Capitol, and 
dining on beefsteak and fried eggs, and going regu¬ 
larly to sleep every night in comfortable beds, sur¬ 
rounded by peaceable friends, our valiant regiment 
had, before Christmas of that year, crossed and re¬ 
crossed Long Bridge, picketed miles of rough coun¬ 
try in the neighborhood of Clouds Mills, marched in 
mud, rain and snow storms down through Maryland 
from Washington to Port Tobacco, crossed the Poto¬ 
mac river in transports in bitter cold from Liverpool 
Landing to Acquia Creek, marched thence to Fal¬ 
mouth on the Rappahannock, crossed that stream on 
pontoon bridges under an artillery fire, and partici¬ 
pated in one of the most furious, disastrous and 
bloody battles of the war; it had covered the rear of 
the retreating army on a dark and rainy night in 
December, and, while the Christmas hearths at home 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


7 


glowed with gladness and warmth, had begun the 
struggle with winter in the open field with salt pork 
and hard tack for food, and shelter tents, or huts of 
earth Avails and a cloth roof for houses. 

Taking leave of Virginia in the last days of March 
in the following year, we entered upon entirely dif¬ 
ferent scenes and duties, and engaged for the next 
four months in ceaseless activity upon a new and 
most interesting field. Transported by rail from 
Newport News, Virginia, to Cincinnati, and thence 
to Lexington, Kentucky, we began a march south¬ 
ward, at first through a beautiful, fertile country, 
and later, entering a broken, barren and mountain¬ 
ous region and over precipitous roads, pausing at 
last on the bank of the Cumberland river, near the 
line of Tennessee. 

The regiment was collected from various parts of 
the State and assembled on Dexter training ground, 
in Providence, where it was encamped several weeks 
to be organized and drilled. The weather was fine, 
and the camp was gay with visitors daily, the dress 
parade especially being extensively patronized. 
Here was the first taste of camp life and military 
discipline. 


8 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


Late in the afternoon of October 21, 1862, under 
command of Colonel George H. Browne, we em¬ 
barked on the train for New York, taking the cars at 
Olneyville. It was a scene of much excitement. I 
was ordered to take a detachment and establish a 
guard at the place of embarkation, to hold the crowd 
back from the cars and prevent their filling the train. 
Friends and relatives of the boys begged for one 
more farewell; mothers and sisters and wives were in 
tears. But the hour had struck, the die was cast; 
the solid ranks moved steadily down through the 
throng within the impassable line, and a thousand 
more live*s were committed to the chances of war. 
There was too much of novelty in our new situation, 
and too much anticipation of what was before us, to 
give room for any prolonged regrets on our part. 
There was just enough of mystery and uncertainty 
in what we were going to, to make us anxious for 
its development. Later on there were times when 
our curiosity was more than satisfied. When we 
encountered the genuine reality we found occasions 
when our interest in the proceedings took a different 
turn, and we would willingly have left our share to 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


9 


other hands, if we could have done so with equal 
honor. 

The journey to Washington was long and tedious, 
and we were not permitted even the cheer and hos¬ 
pitality which greeted all troops passing through 
Philadelphia to the front. Our route took us by 
way of Harrisburg, with many long stops. Our 
boys even here did not forget their opportunities, as 
an occasional quack of a duck from the gloom of 
some car plainly attested. They took naturally to 
the situation with an alacrity quite astonishing for 
new recruits with so short a military experience. 

We encamped for a night in Washington near the 
Capitol, and next day moved up Pennsylvania ave¬ 
nue and Fourteenth street, across Long Bridge, to 
Camp Chase, in the red dirt of Virginia, near Arling¬ 
ton Heights. Here exposure, cold rains, and lying 
on the ground in Sibley tents, began to tell on many 
constitutions, and the hollow and feeble coughs of 
the poor fellows all over the grounds in the dead 
silence of the night, told plainly of the presence of 
that invisible enemy that destroys more armies than 
shot and shell. 


10 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


We soon moved from here southward to Fairfax 
Seminary, and encamped on a fine southern slope 
overlooking the city of Alexandria. We were now 
attached to the brigade commanded by Colonel D. K. 
Wright, of New Haven, Connecticut, in the first bri¬ 
gade of the division of General Casey. The bri¬ 
gade was composed, besides ourselves, of the Fif¬ 
teenth Connecticut, Colonel Wright’s regiment, the 
Thirteenth New Hampshire, Colonel Stevens, and 
the Twenty-seventh New Jersey, Colonel Mindil. 
This brigade was employed in picketing beyond 
•Clouds Mills, one regiment being sent out at a time, 
and remaining on duty twenty-four hours. 

At this camp, Colonel Browne began to give atten¬ 
tion to sanitary regulations, which he. vigorously 
enforced throughout our term of service, often over¬ 
seeing in person the details of the work. The men 
entrusted to his care were not to be permitted to 
suffer in health or efficiency from their own igno¬ 
rance or carelessness. This matter of cleanliness 
and good order in the company streets, tents, about 
the cook-house, and all around the various camps 
established from time to time, became somewhat 



IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


11 


later the subject of the most assiduous attention and 
rivalry among the several companies, and one to 
which I may refer again. 

We had been at Fairfax Seminary but a few days 
when I received orders from Colonel Browne to 
report at brigade headquarters to Colonel Wright, 
commanding the brigade, for duty as aide on his per¬ 
sonal staff*. I put on my best clothes and reported 
to what seemed to me a most tremendous and awe¬ 
inspiring presence; but I had learned one principle 
of military duty and etiquette, and that was, when in 
the presence of superior officers to stand erect and 
say nothing, take my orders in silence, salute and 
retire. And this I rigidly adhered to. 

The brigade headquarters at Fairfax Seminary 
were in the house of Bishop Johns, of Virginia. The 
bishop had no use for the house at that time, and I 
suppose that was the reason Colonel Wright was 
able to obtain it. We also had secured some very 
comfortable furniture and good beds, and a splendid 
library adorned the walls. The grounds were ele¬ 
gant, and all the appointments first class. I often 
thought while luxuriating in this beautiful place that 


12 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


the bishop must have been uncommonly patriotic to 
do vote so much to make the soldiers comfortable, 
while it could not be supposed that he, in absent¬ 
ing himself on our account, could be as well provided 
for. 

There was a capital set at headquarters. Lieuten¬ 
ant Penrose, of the regular army, was chief of staff,— 
a wiry, restless fellow, chafing for a battle, thoroughly 
acquainted with every detail of the service, for he 
was born in the army and knew nothing else. A tire¬ 
less and fearless rider, he led me many a ride from 
morning till night without leaving the saddle, over 
bogs and corduroy roads, through swamps and brush 
and forest; but I had trained and rowed in the Uni¬ 
versity boat crew, and was ready for any scramble, 
however rough. 

There was Dr. Halcombe, of Connecticut,—tall 
and rugged, bluff and vigorous. One night, goino- 

oo o o 7 O o 

through Maryland, the doctor and some more of us 
were looking about for a place to sleep. We got into 
a little cottage and occupied the parlor. By com¬ 
mon consent we assigned the sofa for the doctor, 
while the rest stretched on the floor This sofa hap- 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


13 


pened to be very narrow, and rounded up resolutely 
in the middle, and it was covered with very slippery 
hair-cloth. The doctor got ready to be very com¬ 
fortable after a tedious day’s march, and, wrapped in 
his blankets, stretched his long frame upon this little 
sofa. Presently came a grunt of displeasure, then 
he grew more restless, and as we were just settling 
down to sleep, the doctor bounded off the sofa with 
an oath, declaring he w T ould rather sleep lengthwise 
on a bologna sausage than stay on that sofa. 

There was the chaplain, who never turned his back 
on a good meal, and never came nearer profanity 
than to say "Condemn it;” the brigade quarter¬ 
master from Connecticut, a first-rate fellow; a little 
chap named Van Sann, from New Jersey, who was 
a clerk, had a great fancy for negro delineation, and 
informed me he had belonged to more than one min¬ 
strel troupe. 

General Casey, commander of the division, occa¬ 
sionally came over from his headquarters in Wash¬ 
ington, with a large and brilliant staff, to inspect the 
picket line, in which we joined, coming back to Col¬ 
onel Wright’s quarters to dinner. There was a 


14 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


handsome spread on the bishop’s mahogany dining- 
table on those days, served in courses, and much 
high converse, for our Colonel Wright was an able 
lawyer, our chaplain had written for the magazines, 
and several of General Casey’s staff were West 
Pointers. 

This was transpiring in the beautiful November 
days,— the weather was fine, the rebels at a safe 
distance, the scenery picturesque. There stretched 
the noble and historic Potomac; the bluffs on the 
shores and eminences in all directions were covered 
with forts and flying the stars and stripes ; the city 
of Alexandria lay below us ; the pomp of war on 
every hand. It was all strangely new. The very 
color of the mud seemed for the time a characteristic 
of aristocratic Virginia, a coat of arms as it were, for 
it was none of your common gray stuff, but that rich 
brick color which is the crowning glory of all our 
new houses, and its staying qualities were simply 
wonderful. The November haze hung over river 
and fort and forest, and there was plenty of mildly 
exciting service to keep the blood active and the 
appetite keen. 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


15 


On the first day .of December I was returning from 
Washington, and met the brigade en route to join the 
Army of the Potomac at Fredericksburg. We 
passed over Long Bridge and down along the river 
by the navy yard, across the East Branch, and 
stopped for the night just outside Uniontown. Con¬ 
tinuing down the left bank of the Potomac, the next 
night found us near Piscataway, which we passed 
the next morning, halting the third night near 
another Uniontown, which consisted of cross-roads 
and one small shanty. 

Two days more brought us to our last bivouac 
before beginning to cross the river to Acquia Creek. 
It had snowed all the afternoon, covering the ground, 
and the men had to pass the night on that ground 
under their shelter tents, which they had carried on 
their backs. It seemed to me a most serious situa¬ 
tion, and in the evening, as soon as my duties would 
permit, I went in the greatest anxiety to investigate 
their wretched plight. To my surprise all hands 
were gay and jolly, and as comfortable as need be. 
There was plenty of wood, and rousing fires burning 
all about; the snow was brushed away, and the little 


16 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


tents set up around the fires ; hot coffee and rations 
from the haversacks were passing around, and alto¬ 
gether it was a bright and lively scene, teeming with 
real comfort. 

The next morning I was sent forward to find the 
landing. It was on a point of land made by a sharp 
bend of the river to the left, and was exposed to 
bleak winds. The brigade was moved down to this 
point and began to cross, as near as I can remem¬ 
ber, about noon. It was a slow process, owing to 
lack of transportation, and night was upon us with 
two regiments still to cross. Meanwhile the cold 
had increased, and it became absolutely necessary to 
provide fires. All the way down through Maryland 
the most scrupulous attention had been paid to the 
protection of private property, and with the excep¬ 
tion of some individual pilfering, nothing had been 
taken. Now, on this cold plain, there were some 
large piles of dry fence rails, which, as the cold 
increased and the night approached, became the sub¬ 
ject of- earnest consideration among the shivering 
officers. The thing was argued pro and con , the 
constitutional lawyers being still scrupulous, but 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


17 


their compunctions decreasing in direct ratio to the 
increase of the cold. The result was in accordance 
with human nature under such circumstances — 
there were soon long lines of blazing fires upon the 
plain, and the boys were safe from further suffering. 
Night fell; our regiment had gone over, but there 
were still two other regiments of the brigade huddled 
around the fires, and it was uncertain whether the 
transport would return that night or not. Colonel 
Wright, who was still suffering from an injury he 
had received some weeks before, decided there was 
no need of his remaining longer, asked some one of 
his staff to volunteer to stay to look out for the 
remaining regiments, whether they crossed that night 
or slept on the hither shore. I said I would accept 
that duty, and as the evening wore away and no 
transport appearing, I called the officers together for 
a council as to where they would pass the night. 
There was a side hill near by sheltered from the 
wind and covered with evergreens, but also covered 
with snow. The choice was between that location 
and the present, which had the advantage of the 
blazing fires. They decided to remain where they 


18 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


were, and I started to ride back over rough, frozen 
ground, covered with ice and snow, to headquarters. 
My horse here cast a shoe, and I was obliged to dis¬ 
mount and lead him all the way, about two miles, 
back to quarters. 

The next day was as severe as the preceding, and 
I was left to see the last remnants of baggage, etc., 
across, and did not land at Acquia Creek till after 
dark. I was entirely alone, and had no information 
whatever in what direction the brigade had gone. 
There were plenty of soldiers’ quarters and store¬ 
houses all about, but nobody knew anything about 
the location of our troops. So many thousands of 
troops were moving, that nobody took particular note 
of anything so small as a brigade of a few thousand 
men. Supperless and cold, dreary and lonesome, I 
cast about me for somewhere to pass that dreadful 
night. Acres of canal boats and scows and trans¬ 
ports filled the river, and the best I could do was to 
get on board a transport, and going below try to find 
a place as much sheltered from the wind as possible. 
Here I passed the night, or what remained of it, 
upon a plank, without so much as a blanket, with 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


19 


mules stamping and braying overhead, making one 
of the most uncomfortable nights in my existence. 

The next morning, after some exploration, I found 
our brigade some two miles out, on a rough side hill, 
in the snow, with fires made of pine boughs. The 
smoke from these fires was blinding, and every sol¬ 
dier of the Twelfth Kegiment knows what "Camp 
Smoke” means. Thinking it about time for break¬ 
fast, I looked around to see what I could lay my 
hands on. I found Captain Longstreet, of Company 
B, who was my captain. He had a little chunk of 
salt pork and a handful of crumbs in the bottom of a 
cracker box ; there didn’t seem to be any convenient 
way for cooking the pork, and so I devoured it raw, 
and washed it down with the cracker crumbs. 

Lying here three days, we had orders to move on 
towards Falmouth, and came up with the Army of 
the Potomac, which stretched some miles up and 
down the Rappahannock, opposite Fredericksburg. 
This was on the evening of December 10, 1862, 
three days before the battle of Fredericksburg. 
Here we found that our brigade was to be a brigade 
no more, but the various regiments were to be sent 


20 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


to strengthen other organizations in the Ninth Army 
Corps, our lot falling with the First Brigade, Gen¬ 
eral Nagle, Second Division. That night I found 
the Fourth Rhode Island, and supped with my old 
classmate, Captain E. P. Brown. During the night 
I heard the rumbling of the pontoon bridges as they 
were being transported over the frozen ground to the 
river. Weeks before, in the pleasant November 
weather, I had seen these same pontoons floating 
quietly down the Potomac before we left Fairfax 
Seminary, and their whereabouts had been a subject 
of anxious speculation ever since Burnside had 
arrived at Fredericksburg. About four o’clock in 
the morning, the boom of cannon from the direction 
of the river suggested some serious thoughts. That 
morning I reported to Colonel Browne, who sent me 
to my company as First Lieutenant under Captain 
Longstreet. Thousands of troops were drawn out 
upon the plains under arms, ready to cross into 
Fredericksburg as soon as the pontoon bridges could 
be laid. Heavy cannonading went on all day for 
the purpose of clearing the opposite shore of rebel 
sharpshooters preparatory to laying the pontoons. 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


21 


We lay here all day, and here the first man I had 
seen wounded in battle was brought back from 
towards the river. 

The cannonade ceased at night and stillness settled 
down over that vast army, and during the silent 
watches I could hear the clocks in the church towers 
of the city tolling out the hours. It had seemed to 
me for weeks past that we were almost outside the 
pale of civilization. Living in open fields, seldom 
entering a habitable place, the total absence of ordi¬ 
nary comforts, bivouacking amidst snow-banks, and, 
above all, the apparent disregard and cheapness of 
human life, had served to create and intensify this 
feeling, but the sound of those bells, exactly as I had 
heard them a thousand times at home, renewed with 
strange intensity the recollection of all the peace and 
comfort and friendship which I had left behind, and 
for a time had almost forgotten. 

The next day, December twelfth, we were under 
arms, and we could soon see that the army was in 
motion towards the river, and at length it came our 
turn. We filed out into the road and marched down 
towards the river and Fredericksburg. The city 


22 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


extends down to the water’s edge and backward up 
sloping ground. Behind the city is a plain of some 
extent, and beyond this Marye’s Heights, which are 
about parallel with the river. On these heights the 
enemy was posted. The river on our side is skirted 
by a steep bluff approaching almost to the river bank. 
On this bluff, and directly opposite the city, is the 
Lacy house, a fine old mansion which had been sur¬ 
rounded with elegant grounds and trees, all of which 
were now in ruins. Our artillery was posted for a 
long distance up and down this bluff, and commanded 
the entire city and reached the enemy’s works on 
Marye’s Heights. A lively cannonade was going on 
across the valley, and as we were filing down through 
a gully or defile just above the Lacy house, to reach 
the pontoon bridge, a shell from the enemy went 
through the branches of a tree over our heads. As 
I was stepping upon the bridge I met and shook 
hands with a college classmate, Gamaliel Lyman 
Dwight, who was an officer in a Bhode Island bat¬ 
tery. Troops, horses and artillery were crowding 
up to this little bridge, the top of which seemed only 
a few inches from the surface of the water, narrow 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


23 


and without railings, a floating structure held in posi¬ 
tion by anchors. It seemed a frail thing to support 
an army, but it served the purpose well. 

From the moment I entered that city until I got 
out of it, I felt a degree of helplessness and restraint, 
like a man with his hands tied, such as I think I 
never experienced anywhere else. Thousands and 
thousands of soldiers were huddled and crowded in 
the streets; the city seemed packed with men, and 
all in a position where they could apparently do little 
or nothing to defend themselves against attack. It 
seemed to me entirely within the power of General 
Lee to have thrown the army into utter confusion 
and rout if he had seen fit to drop a few hundred 
shells into that crowded mass. As it was, he con¬ 
tented himself for that day shelling our troops as 
they approached the river, and with endeavoring to 
destroy the pontoons by dropping shells upon them. 
The location of the bridges, although not visible to 
the rebels, was easily enough determined by the 
direction taken by our troops to reach them, the bluff 
over which we approached the river being in per¬ 
fectly plain sight from the rebel position. In the 


24 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


course of the day they got the ranges so well that in 
one instance a regiment of infantry coming over the 
bluff by the flank was struck and some of the men 
evidently killed, breaking up the regiment quite 
badly. At the same time, a short distance above, 
along the bluff, was a long line of spectators in dark 
citizens’ clothes who had come to witness the battle 
from what they had evidently supposed was a pretty 
safe distance. The breaking up of that line of dark- 
coated citizens was something magical; it vanished 
like a flock of blackbirds. 

Later in the day a regiment of cavalry, moving 
also by the flank, came slowly over the bluff to 
descend to the bridge exactly over the spot where 
the infantry regiment had passed. Again a shell 
struck almost in the same spot and exploded. The 
only notice taken of the occurrence was a slight 
swerve of the line to one side; not a man left his 
place except those prostrated by the shot; the line 
moved on as steadily and majestically as if on parade. 
And so all day long troops poured over the bluff 
down into the city and thronged its streets, until the 
whole place seemed one vast hive of armed men. 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


25 


The city itself seemed to me to be about the size 
of Woonsocket, and this comparison was settled upon 
as correct, between Captain Hubbard, of Company 
F, who was himself a native of Woonsocket, and 
myself. There were several churches, at least one 
printing office, and many fine residences. It seemed 
singular to me how little damage the cannonade of 
the previous day had done to the town. Here and 
there a shot had passed through a building, but there 
was nothing that looked like destruction. Fine 
dwellings, richly furnished throughout, bearing every 
evidence of recent occupation, were all about us, and 
it appeared that the whole population, engaged in 
their usual vocations, had suddenly been expelled 
from their homes, leaving almost everything behind 
them, probably for want of transportation. This 
devoted city had suddenly found itself between two 
mighty armies as in a vise. Nothing but instant 
flight remained before those forces should close upon 
each other, and so the population, only a day or two 
before, taking of their possessions what little they 
could carry in their hands, poured out upon the roads 
leading from the city towards Richmond, and found 
3 


26 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


shelter where they could, giving up their homes to 

the fortunes of war. One family of colored people 

we did find who remained through the cannonade. 

They said they preferred their chances with the shot 

and shell to goin£ south farther into the realm of 
© © 

slavery. A cannon ball went through their little 
house, but they were alive and unharmed, and cooked 
a johnny-cake for us. 

I had a ubiquitous little darkey boy for a servant, 
who came to me not long after we reached our posi¬ 
tion in one of the streets in the city, and inquired 
whether I would like some griddle-cakes. The lit¬ 
tle rascal had plundered the flour barrel in a dwelling 
nearby, and had got his fire and griddle in the yard, 
prepared to dispense refreshments to all comers. 

The next morning, December thirteenth, opened 
with a heavy fog enveloping the city and much of 
the valley. As everybody knows, the position of the 
Confederates back of Fredericksburg was a com¬ 
manding one, being on an eminence and approached 
from the city, first over a plain, and then up along a 
steep acclivity. It is also well known that General 
Franklin was in position some three miles below 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


27 


Fredericksburg, where the ground in front of him 
was less difficult, and that Franklin, from his posi¬ 
tion, was to co-operate with the force that lay in 
Fredericksburg. The fog delayed operations until 
well into the morning, but finally began to lift, and 
we heard firing back of the city, in the direction of 
Marye’s Heights. Soon troops began to move out, 
aides went dashing through the streets with orders, 
one command after another gathered itself up and 
moved off, but from our position in a street running 
parallel with the river, no observations could be had 
of the operations. In the meantime artillery fire 
had begun on both sides, and although the enemy 
appeared to studiously avoid firing upon any part of 
the city, and directed their attention to our guns 
posted on the bluff across the river, yet occasionally 
a shell fell short and came uncomfortably near. One 
dropped on a roof near by, and seemed to glance off 
and pass over our heads. This was one of the dis¬ 
agreeable situations,— to be penned up between the 
houses, unable to see anywhere in particular or to do 
anything whatever, and feel yourself under fire, and 
liable to be cut down like a dog, was extremely dis- 


28 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


turbing. I can’t really say that I felt so very much 
better when I saw a mounted officer ride up to Gen¬ 
eral Nagle, commanding our brigade, and saw the 
instant bustle of preparation, mounting in haste and 
galloping to different parts of the line. We were 
under way at once, and soon found ourselves outside 
the city, and marching in line of battle toward the 
field of action. We at once came under fire, and 
suddenly one of the privates in my company dropped 
to the ground, writhing as in great agony. I felt 
very sorry for the poor fellow, but could not stop to 
care for him. I think I directed some one to look 
after him. It turned out afterwards that the fellow 
was safe and sound, unharmed by any rebel bullet. 
He had evidently made up his mind to continue so, 
and adhered to his resolution with great fortitude. 

We advanced across the plain in line of battle at 
double-quick until we reached rising ground and came 
to a steep bank affording protection from infantry 
fire, and here we were halted and ordered to lie 
down for a short rest. Our artillery, from its posi¬ 
tion on the bluff across the river, was shelling the 
heights in front of us, their shots passing over our 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


29 


heads, and the rebel batteries replying; hence we 
were under a sort of a canopy, although not one sug¬ 
gestive of the utmost protection, especially when an 
occasional shot from our guns fell short and dropped 
upon the intervening ground. 

The scene was grand in the extreme. The roar of 
the cannonade, the hurtling of shells through the air, 
the rattle of musketry fire in our front, the shouts of 
officers and men, the rapid movements of large bodies 
of troops to be seen in various directions, and the 
playing of numberless military bands, all blended in 
the uproar. Victory seemed certain, and the more 
so because we heard the advancing fire of Franklin 
far to our left, which gave the almost certain assur¬ 
ance that he would soon flank the works in our front, 
and from a far better vantage ground unite with us 
in driving the enemy from the height. 

Here a mishap occurred to the left of our line 
which was a never-ending source of regret. The 
bank behind which we were sheltered presented an 
angle to our line, so that the two companies on the 
left were hidden from the others in that position, 
my company (B) being on the extreme left. I spoke 


30 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


to the company commander next on our right to 
watch carefully when the regiment moved, so that we 
should not get broken off from the rest of the line. 
There was a ravine pretty close to our left which 
necessitated moving to the right as we advanced. 
Captain Longstreet and myself were reconnoitering 
the lay of the land along this ravine for a few mo¬ 
ments, and meanwhile a shell from the enemy had 
struck our line near where it broke around the angle, 
taking off a leg of one of the men and causing some 
confusion. Receiving no notice of the movements of 
the main part of the regiment, which was around the 
bend, I looked for it, and found it had moved on to 
the right, leaving the two left companies broken off. 
Colonel Browne was at the time practically without 
a field officer to help him, and, as I believe, did not 
know of the configuration of the ground at the left. 
Major Dyer had been incapacitated for further ser¬ 
vice by a fragment of a shell, and we were left with¬ 
out any knowledge as to what part of the field we 
were destined. We immediately pressed forward in 
the direction supposed to have been taken by the rest 
of the regiment until we entered a railroad cut. We 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


31 


found our right had just preceded us over this ground. 
The cut here was along a side hill with scarcely any 
bank on the side as we entered, but a high bank in 
front of us. This high bank was a partial shelter 
from the fire, but only partial, as it ran obliquely to 
the line of the enemy’s works. We found a Mary¬ 
land regiment in this cut that refused to stir. There 
was a brigadier in full uniform, exhorting with all 
the eloquence he could command, but to no purpose, 
so far as I saw. I afterwards learned that our orders 
were, on leaving the city, to follow this regiment. 

While advancing to the railroad cut we could hear 
Franklin thundering far down to our left, and fan¬ 
cied by the sound that his line was advancing, and 
we dashed ahead greatly encouraged by this circum¬ 
stance, although chagrined and disappointed at our 
unfortunate separation from the rest of the regiment, 
and still worse at being separated from our com¬ 
mander, scarcely knowing what use to make of our¬ 
selves, except, if possible, to reattach ourselves to 
the main part of the regiment. Halting a few mo¬ 
ments in the railroad cut for a breathing spell, after 
a double-quick, we scrambled up the bank to go for- 


32 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


ward. We had already been under quite a fire in 
reaching the railroad, but when my head passed 
above the top of that bank it seemed to me there was 
a perfect hurricane of lead howling, screeching and 
hissing through the air. The ground was strewn 
with dead and wounded and debris of all sorts,— 
haversacks, knapsacks, canteens and broken mus¬ 
kets. It seemed to me, as I stood up, that the air 
above my head was thick enough with lead to cut my 
finger off if I had held it up. I could compare it to 
nothing but a swarm of bees in the air. This, of 
course, happened to be where the fire concentrated. 
I saw nothing like it anywhere else that day. I 
knew very well that a large proportion of all the 
fire of musketry is too high to be dangerous. If I 
had not been comforted by that belief, acquired in 
previous reading, I would not answer for my conduct 
as a soldier at that particular juncture. 

Captain Lorigstreet, far in advance, reckless of 
himself, waving his sword and shouting "Forward !” 
was the very picture of a hero. Too impetuous to 
wait the slower movements of the company, he con¬ 
tinued to charge forward, and it devolved upon me 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


33 


to bring the company up the bank and take it over 
the exposed ground directly in front. I made every 
man bend forward and thus diminish the danger from 
rifle balls, and I believe we did not lose a man in 
crossing at this exposed point. We now found our¬ 
selves on the side hill that leads up to the crest. 
The fire slackened somewhat, and the irregularities 
of the ground were sufficient to protect our men, and 
here we were astray on a battle-field endeavoring to 
find the main part of our command without success. 
Anxious inquiries elicited no information, or were 
unheeded. There was no enemy to be seen and 
nobody to direct our fire, and we lay here through 
the mortal hours of that day perfectly conscious that 
our army could accomplish nothing at this point, and 
notified by the retreating fire away to the left that 
Franklin’s movement was a failure. We knew that 
our presence was of no use, but we remained, hoping 
for orders of some kind, our men firing an occa¬ 
sional shot at the undiscoverable enemy. 

Towards sunset occurred a grand and thrilling mil¬ 
itary spectacle. This was the charge of General 
Humphreys’ division from Hooker’s command, which 


34 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


was the final effort of that day of great efforts and 
great failures. Looking away to the right and rear, 
I saw a division coining in on the double-quick, with 
their muskets on the right shoulder, glistening in the 
declining sun. As the head of the column reached 
the foot of this steep ascent, it turned to the left and 
stretched itself along parallel to the heights, faced to 
the front and halted. So deadly had been the fire 
that day that scarcely a horse was to be seen on the 
field. General Humphreys, however, sat upon his 
charger as the fire redoubled upon his line. I ran 
down to near where the General was preparing for 
the charge, and heard the orders to "Face to the 
front and lie down.” He sat in the slanting rays of 
the setting sun under the redoubled fire, coolly wait¬ 
ing for his men to gain their breath for the final effort. 
Presently his sword flashed in the air, and the orders, 
"Kise up — forward — guide centre,” rang down the 
line, and that line of battle started up, up the hill, 
wavering, undulating with men dropping, dropping, 
and others staggering to the rear, until it was a 
broken and ragged line. It stopped, and the final 
charge was over. Out of four thousand men, nearly 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


35 


half fell in a quarter of an hour. "Having lost,” 
says General Hooker, "as many men as my orders 
required me to lose, I suspended the attack, and 
directed that the men should hold for the advance 
line a ditch which would afford shelter.” 

The unfortunate separation of the two left compa¬ 
nies from the rest of the line deprived us of the 
example and direction of a lion-hearted leader. 
Throughout the day, Colonel Browne stood erect, 
disdaining shelter, observing the field and directing 
his men. A shot passed through his cape, but left 
the wearer unharmed. Lieutenant Abbott seized 
the regimental colors and planted them far in advance 
of the line. Color Sergeant DeVolve stood by, coolly 
saying, "You will probably fall in a few moments, 
and I will be ready to take them.” Lieutenant 
Briggs, of Company A, was cut to pieces with minie 
balls. Lieutenant Hopkins, of Company I, was 
struck on the instep with a piece of shell, and his 
foot was amputated. He was sent to a hospital in 
Washington, and died there. He had been sick for 
several days, and was too ill for duty the day of the 
fight, but his captain was in a hospital across the 


36 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


river, and he refused to relinquish command of his 
company. A shell passed in front of Lieutenant 
D. R. Ballou, of Company C, so near his face as to 
cause concussion. Blinded and dazed, he staggered 
back down into the city and across the river. He was 
sent to the hospital, where he was confined many 
weeks. A minie ball tore through the face of Lieu¬ 
tenant Lawton, of Company C, producing an ugly 
wound. Sergeant Pollard, of Company G, despair¬ 
ing of regaining the main body, joined another regi¬ 
ment and shared its fortunes, being wounded severely 
in the arm. He displayed great gallantry, and was 
promoted for his bravery, receiving honorable men¬ 
tion from the Colonel whom he served that day. 
The loss of the regiment in killed and wounded was 
one hundred and nine, and ninety-five missing. 

After nightfall we found ourselves together again 
in the city in the position which we had left in the 
morning. Inquiring for the missing, my old school¬ 
fellow and friend, Lieutenant Ballou, was not to be 
found, and I returned to the field to look for him. 
The night was dark, and all over the battle ground, 
from one end to the other, lay the dead and wounded, 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


37 


the groans and cries of the latter coming up from the 
darkness. The ambulance men were busy collecting 
the sufferers. They were carried in the first place 
and laid in rows adjacent to a road that climbed the 
hill from the city. The ambulances, one after 
another in a continuous line, came past, were loaded 
and driven back to the town. After a fruitless 
search, I mounted the box with the driver of an* 
ambulance and rode back. I then saw that there was 
apparently a continuous line of these vehicles moving 
in a circle; as soon as one had received its load, 
another was ready. The floors of all the churches 
had been swept clean of the pews and converted into 
hospitals ; the surgeons, in ante-rooms and chancels, 
upon improvised tables, were amputating limbs and 
dressing wounds. 

The next day (Sunday) was one of anxious expec¬ 
tation. Huddled back into the streets and lanes of 
the city again, it seemed almost a miracle that Gen¬ 
eral Lee did not attempt the rout of our army from 
his vantage ground above us and the river at our 
back. There were rumors that General Burnside 
had resolved to range his Ninth Army Corps in col- 


4 


38 


RECOLLECTIONS OF SERVICE 


umn of regiments, and, placing himself at the head, 
drive that column like a battering ram against the 
centre of the line on the heights, and break it by 
sheer force of numbers and impetus, but the day 
passed quietly, and so did the next. Meanwhile the 
ambulance men were busy again, emptying the 
churches of the wounded and conveying them across 
the river. 

Monday night came on, dark and cloudy. In the 
evening we had orders to move. Proceeding up 
through the city towards the heights again, on the 
outskirts, we were ordered to observe the strictest 
silence ; not a tin cup must rattle, not a loud word ; 
all orders were given in whispers. We took up a 
position within a few rods of the rebel pickets with 
orders to hold that position to the last man. The 
inky darkness and our extreme caution alone shielded 
us from the attention of our friends, the enemy. 

Having selected our ground, Colonel Browne sent 
for some shovels to throw up earthworks, and posted 
a force in a brick building on our flank. There not 
being shovels enough to go round, I divided our 
company into reliefs, so as to accomplish the most 


IN THE TWELFTH REGIMENT. 


39 


possible. Those not employed for the time being, 
lay on the ground to the rear. 

While silently delving in the loamy soil, a rifle shot 
in our ranks broke the stillness, followed by a groan. 
A man on the ground had carelessly discharged his 
piece and wounded a comrade. Now we were in 
for it; but no ! Every man held his breath, and all 
was quiet again. Suddenly a whispered order ran 
down the line, "Drop your shovels”—"get into 
line”—"leave everything.” We filed down into 
the town. Here and there the ruins of a burned 
building flickered and smouldered, but where were 
the legions that a few hours before peopled the 
thoroughfares ? That city was as deserted and silent 
as the tombs. We marched on through empty 
streets to the upper end of the town, down to the 
pontoon bridges, crossed over, and the city was alone. 












» 





























































































































% 






















♦ 






* 


0 






































































































































































































»• 












■ 
































































































































« 








V 







« 













































/ 




























































' 












































LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 












































